


all that matters (is that you're here)

by WordsAblaze



Series: Witcher Fics [40]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Asexual Jaskier | Dandelion, Demisexual Jaskier | Dandelion, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Multi, OT3, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Protective Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Valdo Marx as the cliche toxic ex, author is obsessed with TAD and it shows, no beta we die like jaskier doesn't, or more specifically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29436462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsAblaze/pseuds/WordsAblaze
Summary: Or: the five times it became increasingly more obvious to Yennefer that she and Geralt were right to be a little confused about Jaskier, and the one time they messily figured things out...
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Witcher Fics [40]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726360
Comments: 13
Kudos: 201





	all that matters (is that you're here)

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not sure about this but if i don't post today then i just won't ever post so here's what happens when i listen to not yet / love run on repeat despite being baffled by attraction in general - happy valentine's :p

_o let the land come at you, love_

“For the love of all things holy!” Jaskier groans as soon as her portal opens.

Yennefer smirks at him. “Are you sure you even know what that word means, bard?”

When he only mutters something intelligible in response, looking back down at his notebook, she turns her attention to Geralt, resisting the urge to laugh at the same conflicted expression he still wears every time the three of them meet. 

“Geralt, you wanted some potions?” she reminds him, raising an eyebrow. 

He nods. “There’s a bruxa. She may have a friend.”

Jaskier snorts without looking up. “She has at least _two_ and this noble creature of ours wanted to try and take them all on alone even though he only has a single dose of black blood and approximately half a dose of white honey left. Not to mention that-”

“I get the point,” Yennefer interrupts, but not unkindly. She turns that potential unkindness toward Geralt, pleased to see that he has the sense to look guilty for trying to throw himself into a losing battle. 

“They’re killing children,” he offers as explanation. 

She sighs, hating the fact that she loves him for his compassion. What she hates even more, though, is the fact that she’s already decided to go with him. Jaskier seems to sense that because he tilts his head to the side and grins as if he’s procured an audience with Melitele herself. 

“Shut up, bard,” she grumbles.

Geralt frowns, glancing between them. “He didn’t say anything.”

“I’m coming with you,” Yennefer announces because for all of Geralt’s enhanced senses, he never senses when people are trying to help him.

Jaskier laughs. “Honestly Geralt, you ought to be able to figure out when beautiful witches are _coming with you_ by now.”

Geralt very eloquently throws his waterskin at him. 

With a yelp, Jaskier drops his notebook. He glares at Geralt once he’s brushed the dirt off it and settles back down with a huff. “This is still full, you know? Your loss, my dear.” 

“Do you have the potion, Yen?” Geralt asks.

She nods. “Two doses, just in case. Though you won’t need both because I’ll be there too.”

“Maybe they’ll mistake you as part of their horrible group and let you both go without a fight,” Jaskier says, once again tempting her to test her latest curses on him.

Yennefer rolls her eyes. “I seem to recall you calling me beautiful moments ago?”

He shrugs. “I’m a poet, darling, I can find beauty in anything.” 

“You won’t find any in bruxae,” Geralt says, snatching his waterskin up as he walks past Jaskier to get to Roach, ignoring the way he protests and half-heartedly reaches to snatch it back. 

“I guess you won’t be coming with us, then.” Yennefer smirks, folding her arms as she waits for Geralt to ready what he needs. 

Jaskier hums. “I would rather not anyway.” 

Yennefer frowns, wondering why he’d missed the very obvious opportunity to make another of his ridiculously bad jokes. “Oh?”

He shuts his notebook before winking. “Unlike you, I don’t need to be in the middle of a bloody fight to get my blood flowing. Some of us prefer the more sophisticated evening plans.” 

“Ready?” Geralt asks, interrupting Yennefer’s train of thought before it even forms properly. She nods at him, already opening another portal by peeking into his memories of the place from when he’d investigated. 

“Don’t get in trouble, Jaskier,” Geralt says softly.

“Just me and Roach tonight, my dear. Nothing to worry about!” 

Yennefer rolls her eyes once more before the two of them leave, knowing they’ll be back the next morning so Jaskier can pry details out of them for a new ballad as usual, her confusion forgotten and replaced with determination. 

_with all its sand and sin, a-singing_

“Hello, bard,” Yennefer drawls as she slides into the space next to him.

Jaskier yelps, knocking over his ale as he turns to her. “Gods, Yennefer, are you _trying_ to kill me?”

She laughs, waving a hand and refilling his pitcher. “You wish.” 

He half-heartedly glares at her before frowning, looking her over. She stiffens instinctively but this is _Jaskier_ and there’s nothing untoward about his expression - there never has been and there never will be - and if anything, there’s a detached strategy to the way his gaze moves from head to toe. 

“You’re not injured are you?” he asks and, well, that explains what he was looking for. 

Yennefer shakes her head. “Not at all. I was simply nearby to gather ingredients and followed the complaints of caterwauling, and here you are.”

“All that trouble to seek me out? Oh, you must be truly desperate, darling,” Jaskier teases with a wink so fleeting that it may have been a trick of the dim lighting. 

She takes a sip of her own drink - one that she’d summoned for herself because she has standards, thank you very much - before elbowing him. “If one of us were to be called desperate, it certainly wouldn’t be _me_. What are you even doing here?”

Jaskier shrugs. “Eskel needed help with a contract and Geralt threatened to cut off my hands if I followed him. I like my hands far too much to risk it.”

Her gaze travels to his hands before she can think about it. They are nice hands, she thinks, slender and decorated and far more powerful than they seem at first glance. She’s almost certain Geralt wouldn’t harm them even if the world depended on it. 

“Well, we could always find something else for your hands to do.” 

Jaskier almost chokes on the gulp he’d been taking. He recovers quickly enough and this time, his gaze is a lot more focused as it travels over her. “Anything specific in mind, my lady?” he asks, his voice dipping. 

She grins; she has a _lot_ of specific things in mind.

The one thing she hadn’t had in mind, though, is the way Jaskier curls around her afterwards, his hands settling on her stomach as he rests his head just behind hers, his voice tickling her neck as he whispers, “I like this plan far better than trailing after a pair of overprotective witchers.”

Yennefer smiles, placing her hands atop his and leaning into him. “I’ll feed you to whatever it is they’re hunting if you write this into a ballad.” 

“I have plenty of things better suited to ballads,” Jaskier mumbles, clearly only half-awake at this point.

She frowns, wondering if she’d missed something or if he’d been injured himself. Nothing they’d done had been particularly tiring and he doesn’t seem as lively as he usually does but he’d seemed as though he was enjoying himself before.

As if sensing her concern, a soft kiss is placed just behind her ear. “I love you,” he whispers. 

“Likewise,” she replies even as she feels him drift off, her confusion easily traded for fondness as she abandons any plans of leaving before the sun rises, letting her own eyes slip shut as well.

_a song you once knew well’s begun_

“Something’s wrong,” Geralt whispers to her. 

She frowns, glancing sideways at him. “You’ve said that twice already tonight, what is it?”

When Geralt doesn’t reply immediately, she rolls her eyes. They’re all more than aware that he hates banquets but Jaskier has been talking about this one for _months_ and neither of them had the heart to refuse his invitation.

She lets Geralt ponder whatever it is he’s pondering for the time it takes her to finish her wine before nudging him. “Geralt? What is it?”

Geralt tears his eyes away from the middle of the hall to look at her. “Jaskier.”

Immediately, she glances over to the stage. Jaskier seems fine as far as she can tell, a bright smile on his face as he moves about, his fingers dancing across his lute and his eyes sparkling. 

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Yennefer says finally, confused. 

Both of them watch as Jaskier and the other bards accompanying him travel around the hall once more, stopping at various tables and stealing sips of wine as they go. Just as Jaskier approaches a table full of women who look as though they’re suddenly allergic to their seats, Geralt hums.

“Do you see?” he asks.

She doesn’t. Yes, she can see the way Jaskier must be flirting with them because they giggle and turn to whisper at one another as soon as he moves on, but if anything, they’re the ones in danger of being cursed for acting so forward. 

“Geralt, use your words, please,” Yennefer sighs. 

“He smells wrong,” Geralt says finally, like that clears anything up. 

“Could you use _more_ than three of your words, by any chance? This isn’t Jaskier asking you for a review, I need to know what’s wrong and you’re being ridiculously cryptic.” 

Jaskier passes by them in the next moment, blowing them a kiss because that’s all he has time for before starting to sing again. Yennefer thinks he smells great, of rose and lilac and exhilaration, so she turns to Geralt with her eyebrows raised. 

Geralt’s smile hardens into concern more as they watch Jaskier weave his way back to the main stage. “He smells different when he flirts with us. Better. Like he’s happy.”

Yennefer nods. “I would hope so.”

But Geralt shakes his head. “Why would he smell uncomfortable when he looks the opposite?” 

Now that _is_ a cause for concern. Yennefer frowns, looking more closely, but Jaskier doesn’t seem unhappy or as if he’s in danger of being chased out of town, he just looks like he always does when he’s performing. 

Before she can think over it in depth, the bards announce their break and Jaskier immediately saunters over to them, throwing his arms around Geralt with a grin. “You stayed!”

“Had nothing better to do,” Yennefer says as she usually does. 

Jaskier laughs and she notices Geralt relax, smiling genuinely. For a moment, she’s distracted by the softness of his expression, the way he looks so much happier and friendlier when he’s expressing joy. Then Jaskier plucks the wine she’d just refilled from her hands and downs it, distracting her from being distracted. 

“I didn’t say I wanted to share,” she snaps, but there’s no bite to it, no really.

She senses Jaskier’s plan as soon as he forms it but she’s too late to stop him. He kisses her and he just about tastes like wine and she finds she can’t quite be mad at him anymore. 

“Don’t get drunk,” Geralt warns, but he sounds a little too breathless to be taken seriously. 

“Oh, please do,” Jaskier murmurs once they’ve pulled away from each other, turning to Geralt. “Or else you won’t get a turn.” 

Yennefer laughs at what Geralt would never admit to be a pout. As Jaskier saunters away, Geralt folds his arms and sighs. “At least he smells good again.”

“You worry too much,” Yennefer tells him in a way that makes it clear she’s not blaming him. They go back to more passively observing and her earlier confusion melts away into a familiar satisfaction. 

_run until your lungs are numb_

“Did you see which way he went?” a man asks frantically as he barges into her shop.

Yennefer blinks. “Who?”

“The bard. Jaskier,” the man clarifies, now looking annoyed that she’s actually trying to answer him as if he isn’t intruding. She has half a mind to stab him for his arrogance.

“Obviously not, I’ve been in here,” Yennefer says, rolling her eyes. 

The man makes a face but wisely leaves to continue his search instead of doing anything that might tempt her to relieve him of his tongue. 

Not even a handful of minutes pass before the bell above the door chimes once again, this time announcing the presence of Jaskier himself, looking for all the world like he’s just run a dozen miles. Backwards. Though the woods. With a blindfold on. 

“Could you _please_ do that wonderful thing you do where nobody else can enter?” he asks, breathless. 

Frowning, she flicks a hand and shuts the place off from the rest of the world. Then she makes her way over to him and scans her eyes over his mess of a self to check whether he’s injured. 

She curses loudly when she sees that his chemise is stained with blood, dragging him over to a bench and pushing him into a sitting position as she removes his doublet. He winces, his hands reaching out for her shoulders as he bites his lip. 

“What the hell happened?” she asks as she lifts his chemise to find a relatively small but probably still very painful wound winding around his left hip. 

He shrugs. “An angry alderman?” 

It doesn’t take her more than a minute to heal his skin back together but judging by his lack of response other than a grateful smile, he’s still injured elsewhere. 

“Did he find out you once slept with his daughter? Or perhaps his son?” Yennefer asks, waving her hands across his chest, his shoulders, his arms in order to clean away the grime. She can’t do anything about the tears in his clothes but she can clean the rest of him up. 

Jaskier shakes his head, his face flushing in embarrassment. “I’ve never met any of the people here before. And I didn't sleep with any of his children.”

She frowns as she heals the suspicious bruise at the base of his neck. “Then what happened?”

A pause. Jaskier looks up at her sheepishly. “I didn’t sleep with any of his children,” he repeats. 

It takes her a very awkward minute to realise what he’s trying to say. Her expression softens and she cups the bruised side of his face in one hand, healing it as she meets his gaze. “Do you want to give me a name?”

He laughs, leaning into her touch. “Thank you but no. As tempting as your beautiful wrath can be, it’s probably best we just leave.”

“You’re not even going to stop by the tailor first?” Yennefer asks, glancing at the discarded doublet beside them. She’d liked that one herself, delicately embroidered with all sorts of small wildflowers that suited him well. 

Jaskier shakes his head. “No. No, I don’t want to- Uh, he’s on good terms with the alderman and I… I don’t want to further tarnish my reputation here.” 

That doesn’t usually bother him. She frowns but says nothing as he peels his chemise off, throwing it onto the doublet and scowling at both items. “Do you have any…?”

Yennefer smiles at his typical habit of carrying out his plans before checking if they'll work. She nods. “I still have your red one in the back.”

By the time she returns with said chemise, he looks much happier. She’s secretly _very_ glad to know just being in her presence can cheer him up from whatever mood he’d been in before but she doesn’t voice that aloud, simply hands him the garment and watches him slip into it. 

“You are the best witch I know,” Jaskier declares. 

“And how many do you know?” Yennefer asks, smirking automatically despite being a little startled by the complete change in his mood, as if he’d shed his state of mind along with the ruined clothes.

“Enough,” he whispers, curling his arms around her and closing any distance between them. “More than enough.”

Not wanting to break the moment by saying anything, she simply wraps her arms around him, knowing she’d allow him to stumble in while she’s working a hundred more times because the sincerity of his appreciation is worth the inconvenience. She doesn’t even notice exactly when her confusion fizzles into relief and contentment. 

_now let the earth a-tumble, love_

“Julian!” someone calls.

Jaskier groans and turns, a very clearly fake smile on his face. “Valdo. How pleasant it isn’t to see you!” 

Valdo frowns as Yennefer snorts and Jaskier takes the opportunity to grin, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have a court in Cidaris to plague?”

Valdo scoffs. “Jealous that we’re not all capable of being sponsored, are we?”

“Some of us prefer sharing music more authentically, not by leeching off other people’s coin and efforts,” Jaskier replies smoothly.

“Yes, I can’t help wondering just how _authentic_ the beds of backwater inns must be.” 

Yennefer decides that’s her cue to join the conversation and loops an arm through Jaskier’s. “Well, you won’t be finding any answers from _Jaskier_ here, he’s used to spending his nights in far more sophisticated places than that nowadays.”

Valdo glances between the two of them before laughing loudly. “You can’t be serious! How much did he have to pay someone like you to say that?”

Jaskier bristles. “I didn’t _pay_ her anything, and you should know better than to insult powerful mages!”

If Yennefer didn’t already hate the other bard from having listened to Jaskier complain about him so many times, she would now. At least she can say she doesn’t only hate him on principle anymore. 

“No, really, you must tell me what you offered her. It can’t have been your actual nights, you’re hardly skilled enough to be worth this level of commitment!” Valdo continues, apparently either very brave or very stupid. Or very both _._

“And what would you know of skill, pray tell? Didn’t you buy your way into passing even the first year?” Jaskier asks, practically vibrating with anger.

Anger on behalf of _her,_ Yennefer realises with a jolt. They both know she could kill Valdo within the blink of an eye and yet he chooses to take offence only for the blow to her pride rather than his own. Gods, she loves him. 

Valdo sneers at Jaskier. “At least I had something to offer, unlike you and your inability to please anyone.”

“He pleases me just fine,” Yennefer says firmly, definitely worried by how stiffly Jaskier is holding himself. 

She’s also worried by the fact that Jaskier is doing nothing to contradict the other excuse of a bard. They’ve only had to listen to him brag about how popular he was several hundred times so for him to seemingly accept that he hadn’t _pleased_ anyone, which she can only imagine the true meaning of, is rather concerning. 

“You can’t expect me to believe that! I’ve wasted several nights with him and I can assure, he doesn’t-”

“Care anymore,” she interrupts, her voice cold. “I think we’re done here.”

Valdo’s outraged protests fade behind him as Yennefer spells his feet into being rooted on the spot and guides the two of them away, continuing to walk until Jaskier lets out a long breath and leans into her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freeze like that. He’s just so…” 

“Curse-worthy?” Yennefer offers.

Jaskier nods before shuddering. She’s about to ask him if he needs to sit down when he exhales again and plants a kiss on her cheek. “You are truly magnificent, my love.” 

She laughs. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Jaskier.”

He shrugs. "It's gotten me this far. What's another night?" 

Another thing to add on the list of things that don't sound great. She's about to ask him what he’s trying to say when he takes her hand and squeezes gently. "Come on, darling, we have a rival bard to show up."

Her brows still furrowed, she squints at him. "Are you sure you're alright, Jas?" 

Jaskier rolls his eyes. "Are you _really_ going to waste time with all that when we could be breathtaking instead?" 

Yennefer smiles, glad that he sounds more like himself again. "Do you mean that literally?" 

He winks. "If the night calls for it."

Well, it'd be a shame to pass up that opportunity, especially since she still wants to see Valdo regret his poor choice of conversation. She nods, allowing Jaskier to guide them back towards the manor house and gently improving their outfits with just a touch of magic, any previous confusion forgotten in favour of a fashionable revenge. 

_and humble you withal, keep running_

“I believe I’m dru-oah!” Jaskier announces as he stumbles into their room.

Yennefer and Geralt share a matching look of concern, both of them rising to their feet. Geralt’s the only one fast enough to catch Jaskier as he loses his balance, carrying him over to the bed once he’s not in danger of acquiring another concussion.

“Not drunk,” Geralt says, his voice somewhere between soft and angry. 

Jaskier shakes his head. “Not drunk, then! Definitely not _not_ drunk though, unless things are usually this… this clouded? No, this other-wordly! I feel as though I have claimed the gaze of the gods themselves!” 

With a sigh, Yennefer settles on the mattress and runs a hand through his hair, half a smile twitching at her lips when Jaskier hums contently and tilts his head towards her. “We’ll take their hands another time,” she decides. 

Geralt looks mildly disappointed but also having determined that Jaskier’s not in any immediate danger, nods, settling on the other side of the bed and shifting so Jaskier is propped up against his chest. Yennefer takes a moment to just admire them, the way they so strangely just take anything and everything in their stride. 

“Sorry,” Jaskier mumbles, curling into Geralt with a slight shiver. 

“Don’t be,” Geralt replies, his arms tightening around the bard, clearly a more gentle substitute for his hands tightening around the throats of whoever it was this time.

Jaskier nods, but doesn’t look like he quite understands. “I did tell him, I did! I said I couldn’t care less about his lace or his silk or- or his _anything_! And he smelt like- you know the way Lambert does when his drinks explode? I do so love his drinks but don’t tell him that because you’re not supposed to know I tried them again,” Jaskier admits, giggling. 

Geralt has never looked more confused. Even Yennefer finds it difficult not to laugh but she manages, gently pushing Jaskier’s fringe back. “We won’t tell him, don’t you worry.”

“You’re the best,” Jaskier grins, but then his eyes widen and he cranes his neck back to look at Geralt. “You’re the best too, my dear, I love both of you and you’re both great at kissing and I simply could not be more fortunate!” 

“Just kissing?” Yennefer teases because even after all this time, she’s still not sure how to respond to Jaskier’s declarations of love. 

He turns back to her with his nose scrunched up and his eyes practically crossed into a frown. “And everything else, of course! I’m not terribly fond of it all but there is truly no experience as exhilarating as falling into slumber beside the greatest beings to exist! Wait, I ought not to have told you that... Oh, bloody hell,” Jaskier moans, shrinking into himself as he visibly bites his tongue. 

Yennefer and Geralt share another look over his head, this one far more serious than the one before. She gently tilts Jaskier’s face towards her and waits until he opens his eyes again. “I know you’re not in your right mind, bard, but I’m going to need you to elaborate.” 

“I can do that!” Jaskier blurts. “I’ve been informed I am skilled at elador- elaboration! Did you know I once spun a single verse into a four-part set? It took almost a month but no matter, there were courts playing only that for _miles_ once I was done!”

Geralt exhales softly. “Jaskier. Do you not enjoy us in bed?”

Not the worst way to ask but definitely not how Yennefer would have phrased it. She can’t complain though, because at least he can’t veer off course this time. He does look like he’s swallowed drowner guts but the pause means he’s not trying to change the subject anymore.

“I do! I swear, I do! You’d be able to, uhm, sniff it out if I were lying, would you not?” he asks Geralt, his grin now strained. 

Yennefer clears her throat. “I’d like to also consider myself as someone who knows when her partner isn’t willing, Jaskier.”

Jaskier squirms under her gaze. “I am! I- I adore _everything_ about you, darling.” 

For once, the nickname has no effect on her. She’s finally beginning to understand that what she’d previously thought of as a lapse in her own judgement is simply a large part of Jaskier that they’d overlooked because he was so good at hiding it. When he hadn’t taken something that clearly removes his filter, that is.

“You don’t actually like sex all that much, do you?” she asks bluntly.

Jaskier flinches but he doesn’t deny it and judging by the look on Geralt’s face in reaction to whatever emotion he can now smell, she’s not wrong. 

“I tried to!” Jaskier whispers eventually. “Everyone knows bards are meant to and I’m a bard and I tried and I failed and I- it was so much _easier_ to pretend than to- than to admit there was something wrong with me! I’m still a great bard!” 

“Of course,” Geralt assures him immediately, “you are the _greatest_ bard we know.” 

Yennefer pinches the bridge of her nose to stop herself from accidentally breaking something. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Jas. You’re not the only one who feels that way.” 

She thinks of Istredd, who only expressed any interest in her like that once they’d gotten to know each other. She thinks of Aneta, the young girl who’d slipped into her shop and tried to ask for a cure to something she didn’t understand. She thinks of Tissaia, who couldn’t care less about anything other than her wards or the chaos of the world. And now she thinks of Jaskier, who’s been offering them everything he doesn’t even know he’s not obliged to.

After a moment, Yennefer leans forwards and gently kisses away the tear sliding down Jaskier’s cheek. “You’re okay, Jaskier, and this doesn’t change how much we want you around.”

“You could have told us,” Geralt says carefully. “We would have done better.” 

Jaskier shakes his head at that. “No. No, you couldn’t. It’s not- I _like_ being with you. But _only_ you. I don’t want- If- When I do, I just want you.”

“And you have us,” Yennefer says firmly, fiercely. 

“Always,” Geralt adds.

Instead of saying anything, Jaskier pulls her closer, all three of them then rearranging themselves so they’re tangled together in a comfortable and familiar mess of hair and limbs and reassuring touches. 

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier mumbles.

“I think that’s our line,” Yennefer tells him, glancing at Geralt to make sure he’s not about to wallow in guilt, “but maybe we should focus on making things better instead of blaming ourselves.” 

Jaskier hums, clearly on the verge of falling asleep either due to exhaustion or the otherwise harmless potion running through his blood, which will definitely be addressed again when he’s more coherent. Geralt’s jaw unclenches as he nods in agreement, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“We can talk more about this tomorrow,” she murmurs, and although Geralt looks like the idea of that physically pains him, he nods again, both of them glancing at Jaskier sandwiched in their embrace before sharing a smile. 

“Thank you, Yen,” he says, “I shouldn’t have missed it but-”

“Geralt. Tomorrow,” she reminds him.

They have quite a few things to figure out but if there’s one thing about relationships she’s learnt over the years, it’s that such matters are worth awkwardly acknowledging rather than hiding away until they explode. Admittedly, it’s far below ideal that it took so long to figure out but it’s not as though they’re running out of time to remedy their routines. 

“Goodnight,” Geralt says quietly.

Yes, she thinks, they’ll all be from now on. 

_it’s not from what we run that drums_

_but what’s to come_

**Author's Note:**

> my attempt at catharsis didn't translate particularly well into their personalities so i'm sorry if they seemed rather ooc,, pls lmk if i need to tag/change anything btw !! oh and i hope you have a good day <3


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